


Your Thorns Are the Best Part of You

by Emrys MK (mk_malfoy)



Series: Merlin Episodes: AUs, Missing Scenes, and Inspired By [10]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Boys In Love, Canon Era, Episode: s01e10 The Moment of Truth, M/M, Merlin Canon Fest, Missing Scene, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-06-27 02:40:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15676353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mk_malfoy/pseuds/Emrys%20MK
Summary: Arthur understands why Merlin has to return to Ealdor, but the thought of never seeing him again leaves the prince distraught, without any idea what to do. Lucky for him, Morgana is a wealth of advice and knows exactly what Arthur should do.





	Your Thorns Are the Best Part of You

**Author's Note:**

> The title is a quote from author Marianne Moore.
> 
> Written for Merlin Canon Fest: Episode 1X10-The Moment of Truth
> 
> Thank you to my amazing beta, Peledryn. You, my dear, rock my socks off!
> 
>  **Disclaimer** : These beloved characters are based on legends that have been passed down for centuries, but Shine and BBC own the show that inspired this work. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

Arthur stared at the empty space that had only seconds before been filled with Merlin and wondered how it had come to pass that a cheeky, clumsy, gangly boy from Ealdor had come to take up such a large part of his life in such a relatively short period of time. He also pondered what life would be like after Merlin left and returned to Ealdor, but he didn’t have to think on that one long before deducing that life without Merlin would be boring and sad.

The thought sent a wave of what he would deny to others but admit to himself as near panic through Arthur as he turned away from the entrance into the castle and looked out over the bustling courtyard below. How many of those people had been helped by Merlin? Camelot had benefitted in many ways from Arthur’s manservant’s presence; his departure would leave a huge empty hole.

Yes, Merlin had been a constant thorn in Arthur’s side from day one, but that irritating pain that had refused to go away when he’d wanted it to had changed Arthur in many ways. 

He wasn’t ready to say goodbye. 

Arthur did understand, though, that Merlin had no choice but to go. His village was threatened and his mother had been assaulted. The truth of it was that Merlin had an obligation to his mother that trumped any standing agreement to a future king.

“He’s leaving?”

Arthur sighed as he watched Morgana saunter out onto the roof and stand beside him, looking properly sympathetic as she focused her bright green eyes on him. 

Oddly, this upset him.

In almost any situation, Morgana could be counted on to be the voice of reason; she knew how to set the King’s son to rights when he needed it, most especially when he thought he didn’t. Arthur yearned for those helpful, direct words this day, not commiserating platitudes.

A “yes” was all he could manage, and he hoped it hadn’t sounded as petulant as he thought it might have.

“Hmm...” Morgana looked out over the courtyard, seemingly deep in thought. “Is there no hope of him returning?” she finally asked when she turned to face Arthur and leant against the battlements. “Surely there is nothing in Ealdor that would keep him there permanently,” she added with a hint of pompousness that Morgana was so very good at.

She could be as sweet and caring as a first-time mother watching over her recently born pups or as brash as an angry, charging boar after being pierced with an arrow. 

Arthur was forever grateful that he was one of those people his father’s ward liked; he didn’t fancy ever being on the receiving end of an uncharitable Morgana.

“His mother lives there, Morgana.” Arthur’s grip on one of the crenels tightened as he looked away. Encouraging his unwarranted growing dependence on Merlin was the last thing he needed Morgana to do.

There was a time Arthur had wondered if Morgana were jealous of Merlin because he now spent more time with Arthur than Morgana did. Why couldn’t she take that angle now and be pleased that the _strange boy from the land beyond Escetir (check spelling)_ was leaving?

“If you knew your mother was in trouble, would you not move heaven and earth to get to her?” he asked, but even as the words came out of his mouth he regretted them—no one, not even his father, knew where Morgana’s mother was—but Morgana was sometimes so very selfish and needed to be reminded that the world did not revolve around her.

His father had once told Arthur that it was he, not Morgana, who was the selfish one. Arthur hadn’t believed a word of that, but now he wasn’t so sure. Everyone seemed to flock towards his father’s ward, yet those same people tended to keep their distance from the future king. Just maybe his father had been right.

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry, Arthur,” was Morgana’s sulky reply, seemingly ignoring the previous statement altogether. “The boy is sweet and did wonders for your disposition. I will be sorry to see him go.”

Arthur nodded but couldn’t say anything. Not so many hours before, Gaius had made a similar remark when Arthur had asked the physician if Merlin would be going back to Ealdor.

“ _I think you know the answer to that question, sire, but I do think he will return; he travelled many hours by foot to arrive in Camelot and is here for a reason. I cannot see him staying away. And, if I might for a moment use my advanced age to make a bold statement, the two of you are good for one another; it would be a shame if you were forever parted._ ”

Arthur had begun to ask what Gaius meant, but an appearance by the King had put an end to that and there hadn’t been another opportunity.

Arthur wasn’t completely clueless, however. And now it seemed that the court physician wasn’t the only one with similar thoughts. Maybe Arthur’s fanciful ideas weren’t altogether without merit.

He questioned his sanity all the same.

When he realised there wasn’t a proper response within him to give Morgana’s not-quite-but-verging-on cloying statement, Arthur let out a mirthless laugh and shook his head as if ridding himself of unwanted thoughts. 

Why did he even care about any of this?

Merlin was hopeless. Truly hopeless. He was a passable servant and a help to Gaius, but the absence of his irritating presence wouldn’t be felt for long—someone else would fill his spot and life would carry on as it always had. 

The citadel wouldn’t stop because Merlin left.

But if that was the way of it, then why did the prospect of Merlin departing leave such an empty space within Arthur?

“He hasn’t left yet, Arthur. You should go to him,” Morgana added as she frowned.

“And do what, Morgana?” asked Arthur as he leant against the battlement and crossed his arms. “Tell him he’s the best friend I’ve ever had? The only friend? Admit that until he came along no one other than my father, you, and Gaius cared about my wellbeing? Profess my undying love for him? Ask him to stay with me and warm my bed? Ask him to love me? I hardly think Merlin would take kindly to either of those. And why would he? I never let an opportunity to berate him pass me by.”

Morgana cleared her throat and let out a chuckle. “Arthur, dear, every rose has a thorn.”

Arthur felt somewhat lightheaded at his overwrought admissions and Morgana’s less than pleasing response; he closed his eyes momentarily to gather his bearings.

Morgana looked at him with all the sadness that Arthur himself felt.

Why did it have to be Merlin that Arthur wanted? Why couldn’t it have been Morgana? She was pretty, smart, learned in the ways of being a royal, and was here, not going anywhere.

But she was Morgana. They would clash at every turn. Still, she would be easy to be with and would fit in seamlessly.

Merlin never would.

Was that the life Arthur wanted? To be with someone his father would never approve of? Did he wish to alienate his future subjects? They no doubt expected him to one day marry a beautiful princess and sire a future king and perhaps an adorable princess.

Until a few months ago, those had been Arthur’s expectations for himself as well.

But then Merlin had come into his life and everything had changed.

What should he do?

Arthur had no answers, but what he did have was a growing hole where Merlin had been… and Merlin wasn’t even gone yet.

“What you say or do is up to you, Arthur dear, but it is patently clear that you have unresolved business with Merlin and need to see him again before he leaves. If you don’t, I fear you will be unbearable to live with. And perhaps, if you can wade through all the clouded emotions in that head and heart of yours, you will see that there is a solution to this staring at you. If you want Merlin to return to you, do something about it.” She then placed a kiss on his cheek before leaving him to his thoughts.

Arthur watched her leave and attempted to reason with himself that with her by his side, Camelot would thrive. Arthur adored her as did the people who resided within and around the realm.

But Arthur didn’t love her, and that was what it all came down to. No, love didn’t have to come into the equation—most marriages were arranged in families such as his—but he had never felt right about a loveless union. 

Perhaps that was because his father had loved his mother. Arthur hadn’t seen that love firsthand, but he had heard about it and knew it was that which now made it impossible for him to enter a relationship for anything other than love.

Oh well, perhaps another royal envoy would make its way to Camelot soon and one of the visiting kings’ daughters would catch Arthur’s interest. It had happened before, and there was no reason to believe it wouldn’t happen again.

Why he had found himself enamoured with Merlin in the first place baffled him. He had never fancied men. One of his father’s knights was secretly involved with one of the younger trainees, and Arthur often saw them sneak a kiss or a caress before or after training, or whilst on a hunt, but Arthur had never looked at another male with anything akin to attraction.

It would have to be Merlin that changed all of that.

But since his initial encounter with Merlin, Arthur hadn’t found any other male to his liking, so it wasn’t as if Merlin were merely a catalyst to open Arthur’s eyes.

It just didn’t make sense.

Or perhaps it did.

Arthur scrubbed his face with his hands and began walking towards the door. What madness had Morgana been referring to when she said there was an answer to this?

He found out when he entered his chambers later that afternoon after meeting with his father. There was a parchment on his desk that simply read, “Go help him, Arthur, then bring him back.” It was in Morgana’s beautiful flowy writing.

He only had to ponder Morgana's suggestion for a brief moment before he decided that this was exactly what he would do.

As he prepared to leave he was heartened to find out that Morgana and Guinevere had gone with Merlin to help. 

He gave his horse a workout it would never forget in his pursuit of Merlin, and he spent the next several days making sure that Kanen would never again hurt Merlin’s mother or village.

By the time Kanen and his thugs were either killed or run off, Arthur’s emotions had run the gamut. He had rallied the inhabitants of Merlin’s tiny village, something he had been trained from birth to do, and he had faced truths from Guinevere that he’d hoped not to, something he had not at all been prepared for.

Was he truly out of touch with his people? That’s what Guinevere had implied. Of course she had apologised and tried to take back her words, but she had said them. 

Perhaps he needed to be a little less critical and much more accepting. It wasn’t a realisation Arthur was happy about, but it was worth looking into. 

But the most important realisation for Arthur over the past few days had resulted from Arthur’s talks with Merlin. His confused and muddled feelings of a few days earlier that had him thinking he was somehow in love with Merlin had ever so slowly morphed into him knowing with all his heart that there would never be another for him. 

It had been a heady realisation and for several hours the day before, Arthur had wandered the wood alone, trying to come to terms with his feelings.

A day onward hadn’t done much to help Arthur accept what his heart had known for months, but the cool breeze wafting through his hair as he made his way back home did wonders for him.

“We haven’t had a chance to talk much,” said Morgana as her horse cantered up to his. “Have you spoken to Merlin?”

“Yes, as Will was taking an arrow for me I professed my undying love for his best friend,” said a sarcastic Arthur. but then he shook his head in that self-deprecating way of his. “Erm, sorry, that was uncalled for, but no, it was hardly the time or the place. We were busy trying to save his village if you remember, Morgana.”

Morgana’s sigh and look said that she thought Arthur was making excuses. Maybe he was. Truth was that he had very nearly told Merlin how he felt on a couple of occasions, but for one reason or another he hadn’t. One of those times he had even thought that maybe Merlin had something to tell him as well.

“Don’t you think it’s about time you faced this, Arthur? I can see that it’s wreaking havoc on you.” Morgana turned and looked behind her to where Guinevere was bringing up the rear. “When we make camp, Gwen and I will go search for wood to keep the fire going. I suggest you take that time to talk to Merlin.”

Without a reply Arthur took off at a gallop to catch up with Merlin.

Sometime later, as Merlin was setting up camp and preparing supper, Morgana and Gwen went running off, giggling like young maidens who had spotted a potential suitor. 

Arthur sat by the small stream and watched Merlin.

To this day Arthur couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact that Merlin had almost died for him. Yes, Arthur had nearly done the same for Merlin, but it was a response to what Merlin had done for him. When Merlin drank the poison, he’d done so knowing the likelihood that he would die.

Merlin stood and walked towards his horse.

He really was too beautiful for words, and when he turned and smiled at Arthur, it took every ounce of restraint for Arthur not to blurt out that he loved Merlin.

Arthur grabbed a small piece of bark, retrieved his knife, and began whittling, but he never took his eyes off of Merlin for long.

“Supper is almost ready, sire. I hope the girls will be back soon.” Merlin took a bite of whatever it was that he’d decided to cook, then walked over to where Arthur was and sat beside him. “I didn’t know you whittled.”

Arthur grinned as he continued stripping the piece of its bark. “There are many things you don’t know about me, Merlin.”

He expected this would have elicited a cheeky response, but it didn’t. Instead, Merlin’s previous-almost-carefree demeanour was replaced with a solemnity that Arthur knew all too well.

It was never easy losing someone close to you.

“I’m sorry you had to lose Will, Merlin.” Arthur knew it was an empty comment—he’d already said this very thing on numerous occasions—but if he said it every day for the remainder of his life it wouldn’t be enough. It was down to him that Merlin’s best friend was now little more than ashes and fertilizer.

Merlin took a deep breath then stood and walked back to his horse. When he returned he handed Arthur a package. Arthur studied it for several seconds.

“Open it,” was Merlin’s soft command.

Nothing else for it, Arthur did as asked, his curiosity piqued. It was wrapped quite nicely. No doubt someone other than Merlin had done it—he’d seen how Merlin wrapped gifts, and it wasn’t a pretty sight.

Finally he came to a box. He carefully opened it, and his breath caught in his throat. Inside, lying upon a cushion of what looked like silk, were three red roses. Two were dried and old from the look of them, and one was fresh.

Arthur was confused. Why had Merlin given him three red roses, two of them long ago dried up? He looked up but had no idea what to say.

Merlin let out a chuckle. “When I was little, Will and me did everything together. We were the best of friends, and I thought nothing would ever separate us.” Merlin then carefully retrieved one of the dried roses. “This was Will’s. I gave it to him the day I left Ealdor to come to Camelot. I don’t even know why I did it.”

Arthur let out a brief laugh and rolled his eyes as he shook his head, something Merlin was by now well accustomed to.

“Okay, yeah, erm, I might have wanted him to have something to remember me by,” Merlin added as if it were the most difficult confession he’d ever made. “Mum and me don’t have much so I knew whatever I gave him wouldn’t be much, but I had to give him something. I picked this from my mum’s garden.” Merlin turned the stem and watched the rose intently, as if it would bloom and fly away. “It was all I could do, Arthur.” He then turned to look at Arthur. “It is all _we_ can do.”

There was no mistaking the emphasis on the ‘we.’ And there was no mistaking the meaning. Arthur briefly closed his eyes and took a deep breath before he reached over and retrieved the other dried rose, deciding, at least for the moment, to delay the inevitable. “And this one?” he asked just as his thumb made contact with a thorn. He made a face but said nothing. Leave it to Merlin to leave thorns on dried roses.

“I made it all the way to the wood by the time Will caught up to me. He was out of breath when he handed it to me. He didn’t say anything, but I watched as a tear rolled down his face.”

Arthur swallowed. “You let him go?” he asked incredulously. When Merlin’s face crumpled, Arthur felt bad for his tone, but how could Merlin have left? How could he have done that?

“I had to, Arthur.”

Arthur heard the sadness in Merlin’s voice. He set down Merlin’s rose and picked up the beautiful and very much alive red rose.

“And this?” he asked, his heart beating much faster now as he looked into Merlin’s shining blue eyes.

Merlin took the rose from Arthur and, along with the other, watched them as they turned in his fingers.

“It is all I can give you, Arthur. Nothing more. Maybe later, when things are made clearer, but not now. All I can give you for now is a single red rose that will one day soon look like this one,” he said as he gently settled the dead rose back on its cushion of silk. “There are things I can’t tell you, Arthur. Perhaps one day, but not today. Please don’t ask. Please let today be enough.”

Arthur attempted a nod but wasn’t sure it materialised. “You don’t need to give me anything, Merlin.” Arthur felt his heart shattering into a million pieces. Merlin was turning him down before he had even told him how he felt. “You must know that I carry you with me everywhere I go. You must know that, yes?” he repeated, as if he needed to know that Merlin understood.

“Yeah, I do,” was the whispered reply from Merlin, now placing the red rose in Arthur’s hand before leaning in and kissing him gently. It lasted but a second, and then Merlin was again sitting beside him and looking at the rose Arthur held to his heart.

Arthur studied the rose and marvelled at its beauty, with its petals perfectly placed. He handed it to Merlin. “Please keep it for me?”

Merlin took the rose in hand and gently set it beside Will’s and his. He then looked at Arthur, tears welling in his eyes.

Arthur thought he should probably stand up and walk away lest he lose his composure as well, but he remembered Morgana’s words from earlier. She and Gwen were staying away on purpose so Arthur could talk to Merlin. Thus far it had been Merlin who had done most of the talking, but now it was time for Arthur to be brave and do his own.

“When you nearly died after drinking that poison, Merlin, I despaired of losing you,” he said as he took the box from Merlin and set it on the ground before taking both of Merlin’s hands in his. “And then when you told me the other day that you were leaving I again felt despondent. I couldn’t imagine a life without you in Camelot.”

Merlin chuckled as he picked up the partially whittled wood that Arthur had been working on. He took the offered knife and went to work. “Your father would skin me alive if he knew his son fancied me.”

Arthur’s own laugh, mirthless though it was, followed. “Leave it to you to take a serious moment where I am trying to confess my feelings for you and ruin it by bringing up my father.” But Arthur really couldn’t be bothered that his unplanned speech had been thwarted. He wouldn’t be at all upset if all his future plans were thwarted by Merlin.

“Erm, Sorry?” was Merlin’s not at all genuine response before he cleared his throat and adopted a serious look. “I promise to never bring up your father again when talking about you and me.” But the small chuckle rather ruined the image he had no doubt been trying to put forth.

Arthur rolled his eyes. He would have to fall for a bumbling idiot, wouldn’t he? Oh well, perhaps that was how it was meant to be. There were worse fates, he was sure. 

“If what you say about my father is true, Merlin, which, I have to admit it probably is, then it is up to me to make sure he never finds out about us. I have nearly lost you twice. I refuse to go through that again.” And with that said, Arthur made a split-second decision. Perhaps the rose was all they could ever be after today, but today wasn’t over yet, was it?

“When Morgana and Guinevere get back do you want to go for a walk?” he asked as nonchalantly as possible, but his insides were anything but calm. He willed Merlin to say yes, but what if he didn’t? Arthur wasn’t at all ready to let today go. Not yet. If Merlin said no...

“Yeah, we could do that,” Merlin responded, a huge grin on his face. “When I was younger, Will and I often came here and camped out. Maybe I can show you some of my favourite places,” he added with a cheeky grin and a wink.

Arthur looked around and fervently hoped that the girls would hurry up and return. They had had plenty of time to do whatever it was that King’s wards and their _Ladies Maids_ did in the cover of wood. It was now his and Merlin’s turn.

Right on cue, two figures made their way out of the wood, looking quite happy and content. With any luck, in about an hour Arthur and Merlin would emerge looking the same. 

Not caring that Morgana and Guinevere could see them, Arthur stood, pulled Merlin up, and the two ran in the opposite direction. He yelled to Morgana that they would be back before dark.

All he heard was a laugh as he took Merlin’s hand in his and they entered the wood. Seconds later Arthur pushed Merlin up against a tree, not quite believing that he was here with the man he loved.

“Are you going to stare at me, or are you going to kiss me?” Merlin asked, looking all coy and innocent.

Arthur smirked. For someone who had minutes earlier informed Arthur that a rose was all he could ever give him, Merlin certainly was being demanding. Such impudence almost necessitated a sly response, but Arthur had other plans….

Plans that included not allowing Merlin’s innocence to last another second. Arthur leant in and covered Merlin with his body before kissing those beautiful lips.

He wasn’t sure, but Arthur thought that perhaps he wouldn’t have to worry any longer about empty spaces where Merlin had been.


End file.
